


He Could Have Loved Her

by Wrotten



Category: The Last Ship (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 12:30:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrotten/pseuds/Wrotten
Summary: He could have loved her.It seemed at any point he could have just turned around and found it, that edge, the one he was always just shy of falling over.Follows the events of seasons one and two. Shows the thoughts and emotions behind the scenes rather than a plot line.





	He Could Have Loved Her

He could have loved her.

It seemed at any point he could have just turned around and found it, that edge, the one he was always just shy of falling over.

It was obvious when they met that she was intelligent, strong willed, and on a plane so high above the rest of them she hardly spoke three words to him.

That was fine by him. His crew was here to complete their mission and go home. To his family. His children. His wife.

He missed her.

Then Russians shot that doctor's lies straight to hell and he forced the truth from those haughty eyes.

80 percent of the world's population was gone.

His wife.

His kids.

He had hope. Forcibly, stubbornly, stupidly he hoped. Doctor Scott said she was working on a vaccine. The world was now staged for burial and they were all that stood in-between. 204 soul on a naval vessel and an indignant doctor who liked to remind him he had no authority here.

She made him so angry. He was used to his command, the burden of standing a head above the rest. He was too aware of his responsibilities to become arrogant but she liked to push him. Face him as an equal. Demand in just the way she stood to be seen as such.

He admired of her. Of course he did. Every man on this ship recognized she was beautiful, with the brains and heart to go with it.

He didn't expect to become her friend. Her ally. For his eyes to hold hers for lasting moments just to get that nod of understanding, encouragement, that soft reminder of _I'm with you._

He was beginning to enjoy having a partner. Someone he was responsible for, yes, but he didn't fully command. Someone he couldn't if he tried.

She disobeyed him. Went off ship and put herself in jeopardy, risked everything because she was so certain she was right.

That drove him nuts about her. That almost self-conceited confidence. But it was never misplaced. She was always straight with him. He doubted her and paid for it. She never spoke unless she was certain and she was never certain unless there was proof. She wasn't that confident; she was just that right.

And she had started to look at him. In moments of uncertainty, relief, and those in-betweens. That searching hold of acknowledgement. The world is shot to hell but we're okay. We're one step closer.

They were one step closer.

He'd begun to play with his ring whenever he spoke to her. An absent habit, a tangible reminder that there was still hope. That the woman he had loved for twenty years might still be alive.

Til death do us part.

The sensible side of him was telling him to move on, so it wouldn't hurt so much when the truth finally caught up to him. So he wouldn't be stuck on this ship foolishly loving a woman who was dead.

But Captain Thomas Chandler had made a vow.

And he did not break his vows.

So though she became a very real part of his structure here, though he found she was far more important than simply what she had to offer, he stayed back. He knew having to save the world was not the only reason he was keeping her safe.

But he kept his distance. And she never let him think she wanted to cross that line.

Except for that one unexpected moment when he was led out in cuffs and his eyes had found her. Why the hell was she there.

But the way she rushed to him, that look in her eye. Intent, yes, but something else, a deep, shaken relief that he felt in the tremor of her lips when they crashed against his own.

He didn't even think. He kissed her back. Before he knew why she had done it, before he felt her pressing that note between his lips, and even after. When he should have pulled away. When she could have stepped back.

No they had to be broken apart.

He focused on the feel of that note in his mouth and settled all thought on the mission. That is why she was here. That is why it had happened.

Then he found his family and his heart shattered because the truth he had known was inevitable had caught up to him.

His wife was gone.

He had known, some part of him had but it broke him.

And he straightened under that pressure and went back to work.

The trials almost broke her. That confidence wavering, that fear. And he had to be pragmatic. He had to keep himself aloof. Clinical. She was a doctor. She understood.

They understood each other.

He never slipped, never let his heart go. The navy had rules. He was responsible to follow them.

Then he had found her, exhausted and near tears. Patients who had been near death alive and well again and he couldn't be strong anymore.

She clung to him. She clung to him because he clung to her and when he should have stepped back, he buried his head into her neck and held on longer.

He could have loved her. Could have let his heart heal and found itself in her.

Until she crossed that line. A line he knew the moment he had heard that she had done it. Destroyed a despicable man.

No. Let him destroy himself.

It was the virus he had put in his own body that had destroyed him, she had merely opened the gate, and saved the world in the process.

But there were rules. And dammit he was the captain and he had to follow them.

It was never about what he wanted.

She had to understand that. She had to.

If it had been about what he wanted he would have melded into her a long time ago but he _couldn't_.

He could have loved her.

But he had to betray her. She admitted her crime and he drew punishment because of it.

He had to.

And she pulled back in anger. Hurt. They were supposed to be in this together.

And he let her fall.

He tried, in moments, in looks, to let her know he still supported her, how hard this decision had been.

But it was different. She was different now. Sarcastic. Aloof. Pulling back from their system of trust, of dependency.

He could have loved her. But duty stood in the way.

Until at last they docked at the destination that would change the paths of their lives. No longer confined to the strict rules of the ship. No longer confined at all.

But she was still angry.

And he was still grieving.

So they took that step apart.

But he couldn't let her go.

Not fully.

_When you get back, find me._

I'll be ready then. I'll be free then.

He could love her then.

* * *

She never came back.


End file.
